Riding the beast

The lengths of highway

flex their strength

like muscular snakes.

We who have thought 

they lived to serve us

start to feel our big mistake,

Start to sense how trapped we’ve been

in the grid of roads,

in the grid of time,

in the grip of (up till now)

unquestioned rules

that say we have to ride the snakes

and serve the hours 

and not complain

when (for our safety)

more and more of liberty

is locked away.

If we are to escape,

we must slide, softly,

off the back of what we have been riding,

Find ourselves together off the grid,

Build the places in between

until they make new paths

for all our energies.

Let the beast grow old and still

through lack of use,

Give our every effort to our truth.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 25, 2013